The Beginning in the Birthday
by Skole
Summary: A short, sweet story of a birthday, eternal love, a baby girl, eventually and chopsticks? A Birthday One-Shot for Thnx4theGum. Reviews welcomed.


The Beginning in the Birthday

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bones, but I do own chopsticks (Cryptic huh? Read on)

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**A/N: This is a one-shot that I prepared for Thnx4theGum's birthday - Happy Birthday Gummy! *Hugs* Enjoy.**

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He'd seen her with a baby in her arms before, many times, and of course especially of late. He'd always told Bones that she would make an excellent Mom; and the famed prescient gut of Seeley Booth was proving that it was never wrong when it came to this particular belief.

Since the birth of this very special baby girl; from the moment that they had locked eyes over her tiny form in the delivery room, their connection had deepened and strengthened. It had surprised them both. He had watched her fall in love with the pink squalling scrap of humanity, witnessing the wondrous moment as it washed over her, around her and through her; leaving the pale cheeks of her face wet with tears, and wearing a smile that spoke of purest unfettered joy. In that moment, he had fallen in love with Temperance Brennan all over again, even though he already loved her completely; from the gel-spiked tips of his hair, right down to the tiny worn hole of the stripy sock that covered the big toe of his left foot.

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Bones had always doubted her ability and capacity to be a mother; but the arrival of this new life had washed away that doubt, and he observed the beautiful transient absence of any and all doubt in every fibre of her being during that singular moment. She had looked at him with bright eyes that were backlit with something that he could only describe as a glow of maternal mystery; but it was distilled and somehow magnified in her eyes. He wanted to throw himself into those blue nurturing depths and when she reached out to grasp for his hand, the action punctuated the promise in the screaming silent message communicated in that grip; telling him beyond a doubt that she was ready to pull him in, and under, to hold him down to drown together in their collective surrender forever.

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Six weeks later, just when Booth thought he had mastered his reaction over the astounding new depth of feeling between them, he walked into her office at The Jeffersonian and paused in the doorway at the sight that reached his visual cortex, which was interpreted in his brain as the signal to trigger it all over again. He'd seen her every day since the birth. He'd seen her feeding, bathing, comforting and cherishing this baby girl; but never here in this office, a place that was purely her domain. They hadn't been physically intimate since the birth; it was too soon, but there had been other intimacies along the way that were escalating them inexorably toward this moment. As he watched her focused intently on the infant, displaying complete dedication to the task of settling the tired baby with an affection that no bone would ever extract from her; he fell in love with her all over again. Seeley Booth, with his brain awash with chemistry that he knew existed, but remained stubbornly beyond pronunciation, lamented that he was a hopeless sucker for a lady with a baby. Who knew?

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It was his move. Bones had let him know in no uncertain terms that when it came to this particular time between them, that she would not force the issue. If he wanted her again, he would have to broach the subject and control the steps from there on in. She had announced her complete contentment when he had agreed to the terms and handover of control; he had been amazed to see the calm that overcame her at his agreement a month earlier. Their lives had been understandably busy lately, but those few precious minutes that they still managed to find each day, to be just theirs and just between them, were like a secret path to eventually; marked with delicate emotional faerie lamps that they would light each day. The glowing trail of winking lights swayed off into to their dark past, with each new day and each new precious moment between them igniting another tiny eternal flame of the love that they shared.

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The eyes of the still tiny baby were clamped shut, her mouth still furiously suckling at the white pacifier and her tiny hand gripping tightly at the cotton edge of Brennan's shirt, exposing the edge of her practical white cotton bra as it was tugged downward.

"Are you going to stand there and try to guess my weight, while my lunch goes cold, or are you going to feed your hungry Forensic Anthropologist?" she asked, turning her attention away from the child as he approached the couch. Their eyes met for a moment and they both realised that today was the day and exchanged bashful knowing smiles.

Booth placed the paper bags onto the table, along with a cardboard tray containing drinks and a tub containing some sort of healthy yoghurt and fruit dessert that Brennan was into at the moment. Her eyes slid to the tub containing dessert and he gave a low laugh.

He came to stand behind her and peeked over her shoulder at the sleeping baby. "I know, you're _'gonna get fat' _if you keep eating like this...but seeing as this is The Jeffersonian Zoo, and it's feeding time, and I'm your Keeper, you'll just have to trust me that I have your best nutritional interests at heart."

She laughed softly at his humour and leaned back against him; his hands came to rest gently over her hips, sliding over her iliac crests. "She's such a beautiful baby, Booth. It's her very first visit to the Jeffersonian..." said Brennan with a mixture of awe and pride.

"I know," crooned Booth, daring to plant a soft kiss against her cheek. "First day at work with Mommy...did Aunty Camille order her a lab coat yet?"

Brennan gave a husky chuckle. "No lab coat, although Angela mentioned something about using Cam's two-million dollar print room to make a set of Jeffersonian branded _'Day of the Week' _onesies."

"Who knows, she might be able to sell them in as a product line at the Jeffersonian Gift Shop...but don't let Daisy know, or we'll see the Jeffersonian branded panties gracing the shelves," quipped Booth.

"Perish the thought...," mused Brennan as she began rocking from side to side in response to the baby stirring. His arms wrapped around her waist and they swayed together for a long minute in the ancient steps of an instinctive calming dance.

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"Geez, I feel like a teacher breaking up the fun at the Junior Prom..." announced Angela from the doorway, holding up a small camera that she kept hung on a lanyard around her neck. "I hope you don't mind, I took a few photos of the three of you...because the look really suits you two, and I have to meet my daily photo quota of 200 shots of my _'precious angel'_...which I'm behind on, after spending two hours on that reconstruction by the way!"

"She's fed, changed and has been asleep for five minutes. Should I bring through her to your office?" asked Brennan, reporting the update on her charge, as Booth released his hold on her. Everyone knew that things had changed between Brennan and Booth, but the pain and suffering that had passed before kept speculation at a respectful distance. He headed for the couch, where he started to unpack their lunch. "Do you need time to eat lunch, Ange?"

"No, Bren, I snacked on the run about an hour ago, and Jack is joining me for lunch soon," said Angela with a wide smile.

"Aww, Bones!" complained Booth. "We've got to give little _'Peanut Butter Cup'_ back to her Mommy." He had been trying to guess the name of the baby for six weeks now and was working his way through popular candy names this week.

"That is not her name, Special Agent _'Stud Muffin'_. And you don't get to find out until my Dad announces it at the naming day, come Saturday. So stop guessing already!" said Angela with a laugh. "Come to Momma, little one..." she said softly as Brennan handed over the sleeping child.

Brennan gave a smile that both Booth and Angela were still getting used to. "We should have our own lunch then...if you need any more help, I'll be right here, reviewing case files..."

"What if somebody else wants a turn at babysitting, Bones?" teased Booth pleasantly, handing her a coffee cup.

"I'm not sure I could afford the baby-sitting rates, Booth, she doesn't need an armed bodyguard...not until she's old enough to date anyway," said Angela with a grin.

"Actually in comparison to Booth, my hourly rate is phenomenally high, Angela. Not that I would charge you," asserted Brennan. "I am also an excellent shot and proficient in several martial arts, plus..."

"It's okay, Honey," interrupted Angela. "You both make the grade."

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The stomachs of Booth and Brennan took that moment to give synchronised rumbles of hunger.

"C'mon Bones! Let's eat," suggested Booth patting the space on the couch beside him.

"Thanks again for babysitting, Brennan," said Angela leaning in to kiss her best friend on the cheek, as a cover to whisper into her ear. _"So help me, you need to get that man to make you a baby."_

Brennan gave a sultry chuckle and stroked the small curls on the head of the sleeping baby, holding her coffee cup well clear. "I know...and you're welcome."

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Taking a seat next to Booth, Brennan gave a small sigh of relaxation. He handed her a warm container which was filled to the brim with stir fried vegetables and rice noodles, so she leaned forward to put her drink on the low table in front of them, sat back and held out her hand to take the chopsticks that Booth was about to pass her. When the paper sheathed chopsticks failed to make contact with her fingers, she turned her head to see Booth staring at her intently. The chopsticks were suspended in mid-air, mere inches from her fingers. She reached out and took the free end between her thumb and first two fingers, but he didn't release the hold on his end.

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"Do you want this?" he asked her, when she attempted to tug the chopsticks from his grip.

"I want _'these'_, please," she said, tugging at the chopsticks again and flicking her eyes down meaningfully at his white-knuckled grip.

"Oh, Bones...sorry, I didn't mean to..." he began, releasing the chopsticks into her custody.

He picked up his own chopsticks and almost in perfect unison they removed the outer cover, broke the connection binding the sticks and rolled them together between their palms. They shared a small laugh at their mirrored actions.

Just as Booth was poised to dig his chopsticks into his box containing a black bean dish, his chopsticks were blocked by Brennan's. As his eyes met hers, she pinned him with a serious stare. "You were about to ask me something. Don't back out now Booth," she said in an outwardly steady voice, as her eyes begged him.

"Angela said something to you before she left. You told her, _'I know'_...tell me Temperance, what is it that you know," he asked quietly. He wasn't deflecting, just gaining his footing.

Brennan gave him a sweet smile. "It was Angela...being Angela...," she said dissembling slightly, but gathering her courage to tell him anyway. "She said, and I quote: _'So help me, you need to get that man to make you a baby'_, end quote. I believe that my agreement with her statement also answers your original question."

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There was a moment of heavy silence between them as the meaning permeated what was around them and between them, and proceeded to osmotically seep through them. She became uncomfortable at the silence and felt the urge to reiterate, using her chopsticks to articulate her point.

The tips of her chopsticks clinked against the pendant that nestled in her cleavage.

"I want this," she stated clearly.

Then used her chopsticks to tap on his tie. "You, Seeley Booth."

The chopsticks returned to tap against her necklace. "Me, Temperance Brennan."

Her chopsticks moved up to tap on her forehead. "I know this, in here."

Then the chopsticks moved to hover over her the mid-clavicular line of the fourth intercostal space on her torso; the place where her rapidly pounding heart resided.

"I also know this, in here." Her head hung down, looking at her chest, waiting, not daring to see if she'd read him wrong. She couldn't fathom whether his silence was acceptance or censure.

She inhaled a sharp breath and bit back on tears that were threatening. "Don't make me cry into my noodles here, Booth," she grumbled, surprised at her reactive humour, awash with sudden sadness when he failed to laugh.

His chopsticks came to rest under her chin and he tapped gently under her mandible to encourage her to lift her eyes to meet his.

"I want this too," he announced without fanfare, using his own chopsticks to tap at her necklace.

His chopsticks moved up to graze along her lips, so she answered with her own chopsticks which lightly scraped along the slight stubble that had emerged along his mandible since his shave at dawn. Then she pitched a challenging look at him and tapped his lips with her chopsticks until he grinned at her.

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"Can I help you, Dr. Brennan?" he asked.

"I certainly hope so," she replied archly. "I'd like to propose that our first decision as a couple, is to engage in a kiss...with tongue contact."

"Agreed," he said taking their food cartons and putting them on the table. "Let's abandon the chopsticks too, huh?"

She gave a laugh. "Agreed. If I had my way with them, those chopsticks would quickly become quite unsanitary."

He pulled her in against him. "I'm never gonna look at chopsticks the same way again."

"It must be love," she said smiling against his lip.

"Mmm hmm," he agreed. "It must be love."

Their lips met and surrendered apart. There was tongue contact and it was good. Two sets of chopsticks clattered to the floor forgotten.

FIN

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**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts...and I'll e-mail your birthday wishes to Gummy if you like :D**


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